


our backs tell stories (no books have the spine to carry)

by commandmetobewell



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Car Accidents, Coming Out, Eventual Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Gun Violence, Narcotics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Psychological Trauma, Therapy, mass shootings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandmetobewell/pseuds/commandmetobewell
Summary: Five times Rosa finds herself in trouble, and the one time she doesn't.





	1. (in)justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's just chilling, you know? Kickin' it with somebody, talking, making mad stupid jokes. And like, not even wanting to go to sleep 'cuz then you might be without 'em for a moment and you don't want that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hella oitnb inspo bc we were robbed of rosa diaz in prison #sorrynotsorry.
> 
> btw: trigger warning for violence and blood/injury (but nothing sexual).

"Guilty."

Rosa looks down at her sheet in front of her, mind going blank while she processes the verdict of the jury. She can feel Hawkin's smug grin and piercing stare on her back, as well as the heavy silence of her friends and family. Jake is muttering something beside her, his fingers tapping on the wooden table nervously as he sits back down and turns to face Amy. Rosa doesn't move, though, not when she realizes that this is it: she's going to prison.

"The jury has agreed for both defendants to serve fifteen years in a federal prison," the judge says as he collects the papers. "For Mr. Jacob Peralta, you will be taken to Jericho Supermax in South Carolina. Ms. Rosa Diaz will be taken to Phillip Edwards' Correctional Facility in Connecticut." Rosa winces at the verdict, knowing full too well how many inmates she's thrown into the prison she's been assigned. She knows that most prisoners hate cops, but many of the ones she will run into will definitely have a personal vendetta against her, no matter what she does to avoid it.

"Officers," the judge says as he looks to the guards at the sides of the rooms. "Please come retrieve the defendants for transportation."

Rosa turns around, her eyes meeting Gina's own as she sees the police officers walking down the aisle to retrieve her and Jake.

Gina's eyes are solemn and teary, and it only further serves to break Rosa's heart. There are a million things Rosa wants to say, words that she's always had but never had the courage to speak, but her mouth won't move. She looks between Holt and Gina, before she holds her hand out. Gina takes it quickly, giving it a squeeze as a few tears roll down her cheeks. On any other occasion, Rosa would laugh at the idea that Gina Linetti had real emotions aside from snark and sarcasm, but right here, right now, with Gina's hand in her own and the sinking feeling of dread in the back of her throat, she can't even bring herself to smile. Holt reaches over and places his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, but when Rosa looks to him, even she can tell that he's speechless at the outcome. Beside her, she watches as Jake and Amy share a tearful goodbye, with Charles hanging his head sadly.

But then, the sound of footsteps stops, and Rosa closes her eyes.

"Ma'am," one of the officers says as he reaches for her arm roughly, "it's time to go."

And so, Rosa immortalizes the feeling of Gina's hand in her own, before she lets herself be hauled from the seat and out of the room. She looks around the room to see that most of the jury have begun to pack their things, alongside the remainder of the audience. There's only one person who remains sitting, staring at her with a victoriously conceited smirk and crossed arms: Melanie Hawkins. Rosa makes eye contact, and time stops for a minute.

It's in the barest of movements that Rosa makes out Hawkins mouthing something with her lips, before she winks, stands, and exits the room.

It's not much--and Rosa's lip reading isn't nearly as good as Amy's--but the message is clear enough for her to stiffen in fear.

And yet when she looks back to Gina, Rosa doesn't regret not running away to some ranch in Argentina.

* * * 

When Rosa arrives at the prison, the sinking feeling turns into a sinking understanding.

She strips naked at processing, humiliated as her cavities and extremities are searched thoroughly. She's thrown an orange jumpsuit and told that she's being mixed in with the general population because the warden disagreed to protective custody. She's given a plastic toothbrush, a bar of soap, some toothpaste, a few feminine hygiene products, crinkly sheets, and a barely formed pillow. She's paraded through the halls like dangling meat, and Rosa suddenly feels insecure for the first time in her life as the various prisoner's catcall and whistle, while others simply shout her name angrily. 

"You're gonna die in here, pig!" One woman yells through her bars, rattling them. Rosa stifles her flinch and keeps her head up stoically.

"Cunt-sucker!" Another woman jeers from across the way. "I'm gonna _gut_ you like a fish."

Rosa watches as every woman that enters continues to leer in her direction, shouting various insults and threats. Neither of her correctional officers seem to care, with both of them continuing along their way to lead her through to her bunk. She turns her head to see that all of the prisoners have begun to follow them, marching behind Rosa as if following their very own messiah. Rosa gulps and turns her head back, only to see a bulky, broad-shouldered woman with dark hair and light eyes stalking up to her. She has a tattoo sleeve and a nasty scar below her collarbone.

But Rosa recognizes this woman, and she can't help but feel a chill rush down her spine.

"You're dead meat." The woman spits at her shoes before grinning up at her. "You put me away for life, so I guess I'll have to take _yours_ instead."

"I don't know you," Rosa tries to play off, keeping her voice steady. "I'm just here to do my time and get out."

"You don't know me?!" The prisoner guffaws, looking around to the other prisoners who holler in outrage. "I'm surprised you didn't miss this pretty face, _Detective_. I'm Mariana Sánchez, and you best be sure that my girls and I have been waiting day and night to see your pretty face again, Diaz."

"Better watch your step," the guard beside her grumbles, "any closer and it's a shot, Sánchez."

There's a moment where Mariana just stares the down the guard, as if contemplating whether to risk it. But then, the woman just bursts into a laugh and shakes her head, turning in the opposite direction as to let Rosa pass towards her bunk. The guards hurry her along, not wanting to bring more attention to arrival than it already has. But Rosa's eyes stay glued to Mariana's smouldering gaze before she turns away and is lead to her cell.

"This is it," the guard on her left mutters as she's lead to a cell where a woman is waiting, arms crossed and brow furrowed. The other officer un-cuffs her before standing back to watch as Rosa places her stuff on the bottom bunk of the cell, before nodding to the woman. "This is your bunkmate, Cassandra Evans. The both of you better play nice, because right now you're in C-Wing. Most people in this dorm are low-level criminals; grand larceny, extortion, money laundering, illegal substance distribution or consumption, and some first degree aggravated assault."

"But you will be forced to eat with the general population at the cafeteria and share the grounds for yard-time," the other guard interjects as Rosa finishes setting up her bed. "Bathrooms are also divvied up by wings, but there are instances when girls from one wing crossover."

"Being caught in a wing that is not your own outside of curfew results in a shot," the other officer explains as she crosses her arms. "Ignoring an order by correctional officer also results in a shot. Failing to complete your assigned duties or to complete them without diligence results in a shot. One shot will go on your record, the second entails a trip to see the inmate counsellor. Any misbehaviour involving violence, theft, distribution of contraband, or aggression towards correctional officers or other inmates will send you straight down to solitary, and your stay will depend on your misdemeanour."

"Is everything clear?" The other officer finishes with a question. Rosa sighs and nods, looking away.

"Crystal."

"Good," the first officer says with a slight chuckle the two start to leave, "enjoy your stay, _inmate_."

As they drift out of sight, Rosa turns to look at Cassandra, who's been silent since she'd first come in.

"What?" Rosa asks as she juts her chin up in an attempt to be more intimidating. "Are you going to chew me out too?"

"No," Cassandra says in a quiet voice. "I'm just waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Rosa asks, leaning back as Cassandra's brows furrow and her lips straighten into a trembling line.

"The day of reckoning _,_ " Cassandra hums mysteriously, her eyes flitting to the cell doors and then back to Rosa. "The day of reckoning."

* * * 

Rosa hates prison.

It's like living in a constant state of anxiety. Every passing moment, she's looking over her shoulder or tensing herself in preparation for a fight. The prisoners seem content to rile her up, goading her with lewd taunts and threats until a corrections officer tells them to quiet down. She gets pushed around subtly when she's in line at the cafeteria. As she's handed her slop, one of the prison workers responsible for distributing the food spits in her baked beans before offering the tray with a smirk. Rosa can't afford to look affected, even if she's disgusted and terrified on the inside.

As Rosa's reaching for the fork, she feels something sharp poke into the middle of her spine.

"Whoops," one of the inmates whispers as Rosa turns. She looks down to see a plastic kitchen knife in the inmate's hand. "I guess my hand slipped."

"Sophia," Rosa hears a familiar raspy voice tsk. "You don't want a shot, do you? Put that damned thing down before you get down to solitary."

The inmate that had been holding the knife scurries away, allowing Rosa to turn and face the woman who had just defended her.

"Figgis," Rosa breathes out, nearly dropping her tray as she looks to the shorter, bulkier woman. "You're supposed to be in Texas."

"Plans changed," Maura says with a shrug. "I was moved up here. Something about being good and getting an appeal for my case."

"You murdered three people in cold blood," Rosa growls as she stands her ground. Maura only scoffs in contempt, shaking her head.

"And you put my brother away for life," Maura laughs as she stalks up to Rosa, a few other inmates coming to stand beside her. Rosa takes a step back out of instinct, fear evident on her face as she watches the other woman continue to edge closer. "You've ruined my entire family's operation, all because he tried to put a death note on your little fiancé? But did you honestly think that prison will stop him, Diaz? Jimmy will find Pimento, and he'll chop up his body into tiny, indistinguishable bits so there'll be nothing left to bury. And for you? I guess I'll just have to finish that job here."

"And risk your chance of getting free?" Rosa calls her bluff with a low chuckle. "Your threat is based on empty words, Figgis. I'm not scared of you."

"I never said _I'd_ be the one killing you," Maura says with a knowing smile. "The buzz around the wards seems to be that you have quite a few enemies in here, and not nearly enough allies. Or _none_ , judging by the amount of people in this room that are itching to kill you, Detective--myself included. The guards might have told you that C-Wing is mostly low-lifes, which is true to some extent. But, more importantly, I think that they forgot to mention that many of them are loyal to the woman you tried to throw into jail. It appears that Melanie Hawkins has herself a great reputation amongst officers here."

At this, Rosa feels her blood run cold. Maura notices the change in her expression and lets out a loud, belly-deep laugh.

"Sleep with one eye open," Maura says with a grin, "because soon that's all you'll have left, Diaz."

* * *

That night, Rosa doesn't sleep.

She stays pressed against the wall, her hands permanently clenched into fists as she stares out of her cell doors in desperation. Some of the prisoners whisper her name, while choose to rap their fingernails against the bars of their cells in eerie, slow motions. 

"Go to sleep, little Diaz. Go to sleep," she hears one inmate sing-song before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Go to sleep so you'll _never_ wake up."

Rosa feels her chest tighten with anxiety as the rapping of fingernails against metal increases until it stops.

"Another time then," one of the inmates sighs sarcastically. "You can't stay awake forever, Diaz." The whispering stops and the night turns quiet, but Rosa just clenches her sheets in her hands and stares at the front of her cell, ready for an intrusion that never comes.

Not that night, at least.

* * * 

Weeks pass, and nothing happens.

Rosa watches them as they follow her, like sharks stalking their prey. Figgis and Sánchez are a packaged deal, watching her every move from the bathroom to the yard to curfew and bed-checks. They each have their own group of followers, so in total it's around ten to fifteen women that survey her, each threatening her with silent, intimidating glares from across the hall or in the field during yard-time. They say nothing, but their actions speak louder than their words. The correctional offers seem to catch on, but once they take a look at Rosa, they decide to turn a blind eye instead.

Rosa knows what they're trying to do.

They're trying to break her down, to push her past her stress-tolerance levels and shatter her psyche until she can no longer stay on guard.

But what Rosa understands at a deeper level--even as she tries to act nonchalant and unafraid--is that it's actually working. 

* * * 

"Diaz, you've got a visitor."

Rosa looks up from where she's busy shovelling fresh soil into the slots in the garden to see a correctional officer standing and looking unamused. Rosa uses her boot to secure the shovel in the ground before she leans on it, ignoring the violent, nervous spins of her stomach as she wipes her brow. It's been two months since she was incarcerated, and ever since she's been thrown in the orange jumpsuit, no one has bothered to come down to visit.

"Who is it?" Rosa asks, placing her hand over her brow to blot out the glare of the sun.

"Don't know. Just know that someone's here to see you."

"I'm filthy."

"You've got five minutes to clean up and then I'll take you to the visiting centre."

Rosa looks to her shovel before glancing back up, her eyes meeting Maura and Mariana's own from where they're standing at the track pitch. Both women look smug as Rosa shivers slightly before turning back to the correctional officer. She nods and puts her shovel back in the casing before following the man towards the main area of the prison. The entire time, she feels the inmates' eyes on her own, watching her every step diligently.

When Rosa arrives at the visitor's centre, she's shocked to see Hawkins sitting in the booth in front of her with a smirk, phone already in hand.

Rosa sits, taking the phone in her hand, and waits.

"Well," Hawkins chuckles as she cocks her head. "Not even gonna say hello, Diaz?"

"What are you doing here?" Rosa growls, gripping the phone tighter in her hand. "I'm already in prison, what more could you want?!"

The smile slides off Hawkins face as she leans forward, rapping her fingers against the glass. "How are they treating you in there?"

"I'm great," Rosa says with a sarcastic scoff, unwilling to give out anymore information. "It's prison, not a fucking _Chucke-E-Cheese's_."

"So snippy," Hawkins sighs as she leans back with another smile pulling at her lips. "But I suppose it doesn't matter, does it? You're probably aware of the fact that I have ties to this place, and that every person working in there has worked for or is working for me. Not to mention that many of your biggest arrests are in there, locked up beside you. Maura Figgis and Mariana Sánchez, especially. Ruthless killers, brutal, and aggressive. Must be fun."

"What do you want?" Rosa asks, gritting her teeth in frustration. Hawkins smiles again, leaning forward as she presses her hand to the glass.

"For you to concede," Hawkins whispers with a wider grin, "because no one double-crosses me and lives to tell about it."

Rosa takes a deep breath and places her hand on the glass, her expression unwavering and stoic as she says, "then let me be the first."

* * * 

That night, when Rosa goes to take a shower, she gets her first beating.

She'd just finished throwing on her t-shirt when she feels her knees get kicked out, causing her to collapse to the floor with a groan. Rosa quickly rolls to the side to avoid another kick, narrowly avoiding the shoe of one of the inmates. Rosa somersaults and hops to her feet, throwing her fists up in preparation. She realizes as she stands that there are two inmates in front of her, one armed with a shiv and the unarmed. Two on one doesn't seem too bad until Rosa hears a door click behind her. She turns her head to see two more inmates enter, followed by a smug-looking Sánchez.

"Heard you talked with the boss today," Sánchez says with a slight smirk. "She said she wasn't impressed by your choice of words, Detective."

"If Hawkins think I can't handle four women with crocs and a measly shiv, she's gravely mistaken," Rosa quips back, her shoulders tense.

"Take her down," Sánchez orders, glaring at the inmates. "I want to taste her blood."

Rosa anticipates the first punch and ducks, counterattacking by landing a solid blow to the inmate'd kidneys. She roundhouses the next inmate who approaches her before grabbing at the one with the shiv and throwing her into a headlock. While incapacitated, Rosa disarms the inmate, letting the shiv clatter to the floor. Before the other three inmates can make a reach for it, Rosa kicks it as far as she can, watching as it slides under the stall of one of the bathrooms. The inmate in her arms jostles herself free with an elbow to Rosa's nose before turning and delivering a punch to her gut.

Rosa groans as hot blood drips down her nose and onto the floor. She straightens her back and prepares for another attack when suddenly she's jumped on by one of the inmates, sending them both to the tiled ground. Rosa feels the inmate's ankles lock around the neck as her body is forced sideways, with her head smashed between the woman's thighs. Unable to move or even breathe, the remaining inmates take to kicking her exposed body, hitting every and any surface available until she's riddled with bruises and barely breathing. 

One of the inmates goes to retrieve the shiv, but before she can use it, Sánchez clears her throat.

"Not tonight," she says as she holds up her hand. "I think we should let Diaz _savour_ the taste before we give her the full-course meal."

The inmates growl and protest in disappointment, but concede as they each step away from the shuddering detective. Rosa rolls onto her side, coughing out wads of blood as she feels her ribs and gut burn with the intensity of the beating. She lays on the cool tiles, her arms trembling as she struggles to hold herself together. After a few moments, she moves to kneel, an arm still wrapped around her middle, as she glares up at Sánchez.

"My grandmother hits harder than that," Rosa chuckles between wheezing coughs. "If that was a taste, dinner shouldn't be a problem."

Sánchez reels back her fist and smashes it against Rosa's jaw, sending the detective down to all fours with another hackling cough.

"Harder," Rosa chuckles as she wipes the blood from her mouth. "Make me feel it, you dick."

Just as Sánchez goes to raise her fist again in frustration at Rosa's quip, there's a clicking of the lock and a correctional officer walks in. She observes the scene, with Rosa on the ground, beaten and bloody, while five inmates stand in front of her, one armed with a shiv. Rosa looks to her pleadingly, urging her to understand that she's been targeted and is in need of aid. She recognizes the officer as Anna Richman, the tough and terrifying correctional officer with little-to-no patience when dealing with inmates. Rosa has seen from her time in the open areas that Richman is a no-nonense type of guard, preferring to hit first and then ask questions after. No doubt, Rosa can see the influence of Hawkins in her style of operation.

But now, when she's so clearly the victim, Rosa is grateful for her help. When the taller woman reaches for her baton, Rosa sighs in relief.

"Great, Officer Richman--"

As Rosa goes to explain the situation, she watches in horror as Richman's baton comes cracking down on her own shoulder.

"Violence against inmates is a week in solitary," the officer growls as she reaches for Rosa's collar with a firm grip. "Get on your feet."

"But it wasn't me," Rosa snarls as she spits out another wad of blood. She nods to Sánchez's smug expression. "I was attacked by _them_."

"That's a shot," Richman threatens as she drags Rosa to her feet and reaches for her wrists before cuffing them. "Now follow me, inmate."

"Let go of me," Rosa growls as she struggles in the woman's strong grasp, "I'm not in the wrong--"

Before she can finish her statement, Richman throws her to the ground, whipping out the baton again to give her a few more lashes to her shoulder and back. Rosa attempts to crawl away, but Richman reaches down and grabs at her ankles, dragging her back for another round of calculated hits. It isn't until Rosa is trembling and unable to move that Richman leans down to use Rosa's shirt to wipe her bloodied baton before tucking it into its holster.

" _Now_ ," Richman hisses as she grabs at Rosa's collar, "are you going to listen, inmate?"

* * * 

Rosa's one week in solitary feels like a year.

Being left alone isn't as alluring as it seemed when she first moved in, she soon realizes as her thoughts start to take control. Rosa finds herself limping around the room, trying to ignore the loneliness that's started to creep in. She thinks of Argentina, of a ranch with scorpions (or no scorpions, she's still not sure) and a future with Adrian. But it's when she pictures the image that she realizes that even with prison, it's still not as tasteful as she'd hoped.

Because each time she thinks of being in Argentina, away from this mess, she's not with Adrian.

She's with Gina.

Gina, who's probably set to deliver her baby if she hasn't already.

Gina, who's dating Milton Boyle, as if sleeping with Charles wasn't enough.

Gina, who Rosa is absolutely and irrevocably in love with.

And Rosa misses Gina more than anything else. It's always Gina's sass and confidence that makes her job working at the nine-nine easier to handle. She provides a sense of comic relief that brightens her day, giving her a layer of armour that protects her against the harsher reality of life. 

Rosa just hopes, as she withers away within the small box of a room, that Gina's okay and that she's happy.

* * *

When Rosa gets out of solitary, her black eye is more of a mottled green and the bruises around her ribs are mostly healed.

"Inmate," one of the guards says as he brings her out from solitary, "you've got visitors."

Rosa keeps quiet as she's lead to the booths again, her heart beating faster in her chest when she sees Terry and Holt sitting at the table adjacent to the glass wall with phones in their hands. Rosa sits down, quick to pick up the phone so she can talk to the first familiar face she's seen in months.

"Captain," Rosa breathes out as she looks to both of them, "Sergeant. It's so good to see you."

"Rosa," Holt says with a slight hitch to his voice, "what happened to you? We tried to schedule a meeting but the warden said you were in solitary confinement for aggravated assault of other inmates. I understand that you may be frustrated, but violence is not the answer, especially not now."

Rosa's chest deflates as she feels that familiar frustration burbling up. "Aggravated assault?" She asks with a scoff. "They _beat_ me to a pulp, Sánchez's group. Cornered me in the bathroom and tried to kill me. The corrections officers are tied to Hawkins, so they shoved in me in the hole instead."

"Damn," Terry says, the weird fake-smile he'd been putting on sliding off his face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Rosa replies quickly, not willing to show just how terrified she actually is. "How's our case going? Is Jake fairing any better?"

"Peralta got a deal with the warden to be placed into protective custody," Holt says, though his face scrunches a little into a grimace. "I am sure that if we tried to arrange a similar deal for you, Rosa--"

"Won't work," Rosa interjects as she leans back with a sigh, "Hawkins' connection is too strong. Everyone in here hates me."

"But--"

"You didn't answer my question," Rosa interrupts again, not wanting to dwell on the harrowing reality of her life. "Anything that can exonerate us?"

"Nothing as of yet," Terry sighs, "she's good at keeping her connections under lock and key. She's smart, I'll give her that."

"But we are doing our very best to work this case and get the both of you out as soon as possible," Holt concludes stoically. "I want to assure you that we are here for you if you need anything at all. Our main concern is your safety; by the looks of it, prison has done a number on you."

"You don't say," Rosa mutters, looking away from the two men as she shakes her head. "They want my blood, Captain. There is no safety in here, and the guards won't do anything to help. I'm… I'm scared and lonely and I just want to wake up and not feel like I need to watch my back every second."

"Understood," Holt says with a nod, before he takes a deep breath. "I know that you are scared, but you are the toughest detective in our precinct. If anyone could handle a prison full of inmates wanting to end you, it would be you. I know that's not encouraging, and I'm not the best at emotional jabber, but I just want you to know that I have faith that you will make it out of there soon. We will never give up on this case, Rosa. Never."

Tears well in Rosa's eyes as she nods, even if she doesn't believe in most of what Holt says.

"Inmate," one of the correctional officers growls out from behind her, "time's up. Let's go."

"I still have fifteen more minutes," Rosa argues back, clutching the phone tighter. "I still have--"

Before she can finish her statement, the guard grabs at her collar and rips her from the seat. Rosa feels her chest wheeze as she's thrown against the wall and pinned there. "That's a shot, inmate. You want to talk back to me again, I'll throw you back in solitary. Now get back inside."

Rosa grunts as the guard lets go, before turning around to look at a wide-eyed Holt and a shocked Terry. The two of them hold out their hands and press them to the glass and Rosa's heart clenches at the action. She hangs her head as she follows the officer back to the cells. She's roughed around by a few of the inmates, and Rosa feels helpless as the officer escorting her back to her cellblock does nothing to acknowledge the verbal abuse.

Yeah, Rosa thinks as she climbs into her bunk and curls her knees to her chest, prison is hell.

* * *

Rosa doesn't get anymore visitors in the next month, and time drags on slowly.

Sánchez and Figgis continue their tirades of berating her, throwing in the occasional light beating here and there, but Rosa knows her position. If she fights back and makes it look like she was fighting, it might seem like she was not as not-guilty as she'd claimed to be. So she takes punch after punch, kick after kick, like it was medicine she's forced to swallow down. Whenever old bruises and cuts heal, new ones appear in their place.

"It's sad really," Cassandra says one day from the bunk above her, "that you don't have anyone to come see you."

"Is that meant to be sarcasm?" Rosa murmurs, her arm slung around her middle as she focuses on breathing through the pain. "I swear, this is the first time we've spoken since I moved into this cell with you." Cassandra is quiet again and Rosa closes her eyes, trying to get some rest.

"The only time your friends came to see you was to inform you on your case," Cassandra speaks again, "but they can't do anything for you."

"Hawkins is guilty," Rosa seethes as her eyes flash open, "and I'll _die_ before she goes free."

Cassandra is silent for a few moments before she whispers, "you might."

The words are unsettling, not because they sound threatening, but rather because Rosa knows that there's an aspect of truth to them. The longer that she spends inside of the prison, the more likely she is to die. Whether it be shivved to death or by the accumulation of injuries even she, with three years of medical school under her belt, isn't able to fix. Sooner or later, something will give, and Rosa realizes for the first time that she might not make it through to see the full fifteen-year sentence she's been dealt. She looks outside of her cell to see Figgis walk by with her group of girls, grinning.

Rosa doesn't sleep again that night.

* * *

It's not until four months in, that Rosa makes a fatal mistake.

In her entire duration of stay at the prison, Rosa's not really gotten to know anyone in the prison. Most people hate her or want to kill her, or both, so she's generally veered away from getting to know anyone intimately. Even Cassandra, her bunkmate, is a silent mousy thing, but she doesn't seem to hate Rosa with the same general ire as Figgis or Sánchez. She's generally non-confrontational, and prefers little-to-no conversation if possible.

And as sad as it may seem, for that, Rosa is grateful.

But now, when she watches as Richman takes her baton and whacks mercilessly at Cassandra in the mess hall, Rosa isn't so grateful.

"Hey!" Rosa shouts, the cop inside of her leaping into action before she can stop it. "Get your hands off of her!"

The correctional officer stops, baton held mid-strike, as everyone in the hall turns to look at her. Rosa comes to a slow stop in front of Cassandra before placing her body in front of the inmate, her head held high and strong as she holds her hands out in a non-threatening manner. 

"Did you just give _me_ an order, inmate?" Richman seethes threateningly. When Rosa doesn't reply, the woman barks, "answer me, _inmate_!"

"Yes," Rosa say steadily, watching as Richman's brows arch up in surprise. Deciding that for once since being dumped in this hellhole she wants to make a difference, Rosa doesn't back down as she snarks, "I thought that it went shot, counsellor, solitary--so which part of that involves public flagellation?"

"Diaz, what are you doing?" Cassandra whimpers from beneath her. Rosa turns her head down to see streaks of blood mixing with the tears and sweat running down the other woman's face. It's then that Rosa realizes the room is silent, and as she looks around the room, she sees most of the inmates looking at her with either shock or anger. Rosa straightens her spine and turns back to Richman, her brows furrowing and her hands clenched tightly.

"Inmate," Richman spits at her feet, stepping forward as to tower over Diaz. "Get back to your cell. _Now_."

"No," Rosa snarls as she curls her fingers into a fist. "I'm not moving."

There's a tense silence in the air as Richman's nostrils flare in frustration. Rosa stands her ground, unwilling to see Cassandra get beaten further, even if it means her own expense. She can see a few more guards creeping her way, each with their batons held out threateningly. Rosa stays stoic, unwavering as Richman roars, lifting her baton so she can bring it down on Rosa's shoulder.

Rosa grabs the baton mid-swing and elbows Richman in the face before using the stick to whack the woman across the side. An alarm sounds as more guards storm in, but Rosa feels the adrenalin kick in and the pent-up anger and frustration start to fuel her actions. She intercepts one of the guards with a left hook that leaves him dazed before she whips back the hand with the baton to send a strike to the next officer heading her way.

Richman gets back up and grabs Rosa by the hair, yanking her down before throwing her to the ground. Rosa's grip on the baton loosens, but before she can reach for it, Richman slams her boot down in the middle of her back, sending her clattering to the ground. Rosa watches, dazed, as Richman retrieves the baton from the ground. The older woman wipes at her nose, breathing harshly as she kicks Rosa in the side with a vicious hit.

"You want public flagellation?" Richman sneers as she whacks the baton on the back of Rosa's neck. "I'll show it to you, bitch."

"That's enough!"

Everyone in the hall stops and turns, looking to see the warden with a few guards around her standing at the front of the hall.

"Officer Richman," the warden says calmly, "put down your baton and go get yourself cleaned up. The rest of you, disperse. That's an order."

There's quiet murmuring as Richman gives one last look to Rosa before heading in the direction of the guard's locker room. With everyone filing out of the room, the warden makes her way to Rosa, glaring down at her the entire time as Rosa slowly gets to her knees. Cassandra is still behind her, now standing with a slight slouch as she waits for further instruction. The warden looks up to the other woman with a pointed look, sighing.

"Return to your cell, inmate. I need a word with the detective," the warden orders. Cassandra looks hesitant, but when Rosa turns her head and nods encouragingly, she reluctantly limps off in the direction of her cell. When everyone is finally gone, the warden watches as Rosa gets to her feet slowly.

"Thanks," Rosa mutters as she winces, "I didn't want to fight her--"

"I _should_ be transferring you to Florida," the warden interrupts as she crosses her arms. "You've caused nothing but trouble since you've arrived in my prison, and I still don't believe that you are as innocent as you seem--despite the whole loyal cop routine you seem to enjoy pulling. You're lucky I didn't throw you in solitary for a month for assaulting my top officer." Rosa looks astonished as the warden shakes her head in disapproval.

"Melanie was right about you," the warden says with a grim nod, "you're trouble. And I don't like trouble in my prison, Detective."

"Hawkins is dirty," Rosa growls back, "they're going to prove it and when they do, you and everyone else here will be investigated for negligence."

"Big words," the warden chuckles, letting her arms fall back to her sides. "That's a lot coming from a dishonoured detective. I'm not sure how it will look for your case when I write you up for assaulting my employees. Even if you're not guilty, there's not a lot that keeps one from speculating otherwise."

Rosa stays quiet, not willing to further soil her chances at freedom. The warden just sighs at the lack of response.

"You know," the warden says quietly, "a smart person would keep their head down and do their time. An innocent person would do the same."

The warden chuckles lightly before leaning into whisper, "and, Detective Diaz, it seems as though you are _neither_."

* * * 

When Rosa returns to the cell, Cassandra is sitting in her bed crying.

"Hey," Rosa whispers softly, kneeling beside the shaken woman. "Let me help you."

"No," Cassandra whimpers as she flinches away, "let go of me, please!"

"Cass," Rosa urges as she reaches out and gently places her hand on her knee. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

"It's not you that I'm worried about," Cassandra gulps back, looking at Rosa with a petrified expression before her gaze fixates on something over Rosa's shoulder. Confused, Rosa turns to follow the other woman's gaze to see Richman standing outside her cell, hand gripping the padding of her baton as she stares into their cell. Rosa stands, placing her body in front of Cassandra's own to block her view. Richman observes the motion and chuckles smugly before turning and walking away. Rosa lets out a breath of relief before she turns back to Cassandra, worried about the other woman.

"I won't let her hurt you," Rosa promises as she kneels back down to inspect the bruises on Cassandra's face. "I'm done with their shit."

"But they're not," Cassandra hisses as tears well in her eyes, "you don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" Rosa asks in confusion as she focuses on the fear in Cassandra's eyes. "What's going on?"

Cassandra gulps, looking outside the cell again before glancing back down at Rosa with a petrified expression.

"The day of reckoning," Cassandra whispers shakily, "it's _here_."

* * * 

When Rosa wakes up, it's to a towel in her mouth and a cloth wrapped around her eyes.

"Quick," she hears someone whisper as she feels her hands get placed into cuffs in front of her body. "Get her out of the bed."

Rosa goes to scream, but the sound comes out muffled against the gag in her mouth. She struggles to free herself from her restraints, but her captor only tightens them on her wrists, causing the metal to nick the skin slightly. Another pair of hands hook under her other armpit and she's hoisted up, her bare feet dragging along the cold tiles of the prison's hallways. She can hear multiple footsteps, which can only mean that there are more people here than she could imagined. They're all talking in hushed whispers, and because of the cloth around her eyes and head, her hearing is muffled.

She feels the consistency of the ground beneath her change, and judging by the dampness and the smell in the room, they're in the bathroom.

Rosa's heart-rate skyrockets as she feels the cloth around her eyes loosening until it falls to her feet.

"Surprise, Detective."

Rosa looks up to see Richman standing in front of her with Figgis and Sánchez on either side of her. Rosa tries to talk, but the gag muffles her speech once again. Richman just chuckles and begins to pace in front of her with a sardonic grin spreading her lips. "Your stunt today was impressive," Richman continues to say as she looks down at Rosa, "but should know better than to try and resist me, Diaz. You're inmate scum, not some hero."

Rosa rises to her knees, trying to fight back. Richman roars at the action, reaching for her baton while signalling for the officers to restrain her. Rosa watches in horror as one of the officers grabs at her leg and holds it out straight. She struggles against the grip as Richman approaches, baton gripped firmly in her hands and a determined look on her face as she lifts the stick in the air. Rosa shakes her head, closing her eyes as she grimaces.

The resounding crack of the metal on bone is enough to leave Rosa seeing stars as she screams into the gag. The officer holding her up dumps her back on the ground as she writhes in pain. Rosa gasps and chokes on the gag, spluttering as all she feels is red-hot, searing pain shooting up from her dislocated kneecap. She struggles on the floor, hearing the baton clatter on the tiles. Blinking back tears, Rosa looks up, gasping and whimpering.

And she watches, wide-eyed and terrified as Richman stops in front of her before reaching for the buckle on her belt.

"And now," Richman says as she unbuckles her belt and pulls it through the loops, "I'm going to teach you a _real_ lesson, inmate."

Rosa screams into the gag as the two officers at her sides start pulling apart her shirt, ripping at it until Rosa's kneeling, topless. The detective channels her breaths, trying to conjure up some plan to escape, but she knows as she feels herself being dragged towards the shower, that she's out on her luck. Her hands are lifted and Rosa watches as one of the officers takes their own cuffs and link her own to a nook in the shower. 

"What was it that you said earlier?" Richman asks, brandishing her belt tauntingly. "Public flagellation?"

Rosa closes her eyes and grits her teeth as she feels the first searing smack against her back. The buckle tears up a patch of her skin and Rosa cries out into the gag in agony as Richman whips her again, and again, until she's sure that her back is a river of flesh and blood. She remains on her knees, sobbing as Richman passes off the belt to Figgis, who makes sure that she reaches the tops of her shoulders and the back of her neck. Finally, the belt is handed to Sánchez, who puts every ounce of strength into each whip. Rosa is barely conscious by the time it's over, slumped against the wall. Some of the whips have managed to catch the side of her face and her right eye, swelling it shut. Rosa can hardly breathe from the pain as she wheezes.

"That's a lot of blood," Figgis comments snidely, chuckling as Sánchez hands the belt back to Richman.

"Yeah," Sánchez goads as she grabs at Rosa's hair, pulling it upwards so they can lock eyes. "I think the bitch needs a bath, don't you?"

"Baths are inefficient," Richman says as she finishes weaving the blood-soaked belt through the loops on her pants. "Give her a shower, ladies."

"Gladly," Sánchez chuckles with a grin. Richman comes to stand before Rosa, tipping her chin up so they can look at each other.

"Next time, you'll think twice about talking back to me. Got it, inmate?"

When Rosa doesn't reply, mostly out of lack of energy and strength to even keep her eyes open, Richman just chuckles and releases her hands before nodding to her officers. They're about to leave when Richman stops and looks at both Figgis and Sánchez with a serious expression.

"Don't kill her," Richman orders, spitting down at Rosa's feet. "We still need the bitch alive."

"That ruins all the fun," Figgis mutters as she kicks Rosa in the side. "But… I guess that just means your death with be long and slow. Perfect."

Rosa hears Richman laugh before the sound of boot steps fades out of earshot, leaving Rosa alone with the two A-list mobsters. She sucks in a deep breath as Figgis and Sánchez reach for the knobs on the shower before they turn it on, cranking them up to the highest temperature. Rosa screams as the boiling hot water runs down her back, burning into the seeping cuts with such intensity that leaves her head spinning. She writhes in place, crying out for help, but it's no use. The heat is scalding now, no doubt searing burns into her exposed flesh as she is forced to endure the physical torture.

Within a few moments, the pain becomes so excruciating that Rosa can't keep up.

She falls unconscious, thinking about the Nine-Nine, her family, and the love of her life, Gina.

* * * 

"Rosa, wake up. Rosa… please…"

Rosa's mouth feels like cotton and her head is heavy as she finds herself stirring awake. Her vision is blurry at first, but then as she looks up, she sees Cassandra's face blur into view. Rosa feels warm, too warm, but she's shivering at the same time. She tries to move her body, but it immediately ignites in pain with a single twitch. Groaning, Rosa goes to shut her eyes again, begging for some relief from the agony, but Cassandra prods her gently.

"You need to stay awake," Cassandra urges her softly, "you've lost too much blood and your fever is rising."

"Where… where…," Rosa attempts to ask, her voice slurred. She can feel that she's no longer on the tile, based on the softness beneath her head and the smell of lavender. There's something cool and soothing being rubbed down her back, before the sound of something being wrung fills her senses.

"You're in the cell, with me. You've been out for two days," Cassandra explains soothingly, her voice trembling. "You need a doctor, Rosa."

"Can't…," Rosa murmurs tiredly, "no…"

"Ssh," Cassandra soothes as Rosa sighs into the pillow. "It's okay. Just stay with me. I… I got you some soup. Ramen, really. From commissary."

"No…," Rosa mumbles with a weak attempt at shaking her head. Her stomach flips at the thought of ingesting food, and she feels like gagging. Cassandra continues to wipe down her back with cool water, relieving the ache for a few mild moments before the burning returns in force. Rosa grits her teeth and cries into the pillow, gripping onto the sheets tightly as she feels her head spin once more. Cassandra hums, trying to soothe her.

"You need a doctor," Cassandra repeats nervously. "I… I think your cuts are infected, and your skin… it's _charred_ from the burns. It's bad, Rosa."

"I'm f-fine," Rosa growls as she attempts to shake her head, "I'm okay."

"They're going to kill you," Cassandra whimpers as the hand on her back starts to tremble further. "They're… _killing_ you."

Rosa doesn't have the strength to reply, but she also knows that even if she did, she wouldn't have an answer for the other woman.

* * * 

Rosa gets sicker as the days go by, but no matter how many times Cassandra pleads for a doctor, they're left ignored.

"I need you to do something," Rosa wheezes one day as Cassandra continues to place the cool water against her head in a vain effort to reduce her lingering fever. "I… I need you to write… write a letter…" Rosa bursts into a fit of coughs, leaving her dry heaving until she catches her breath. 

"About what?" Cassandra asks, trying to keep Rosa's attention.

"It's to the person I love," Rosa murmurs between breaths. "To… the _woman_ I love."

Cassandra pauses for a moment, waiting as Rosa takes another shuddering breath. 

And then, resolutely, Cassandra whispers, "okay, I will."

Rosa smiles--even if it brings her an infinitesimal amount of relief--as she hears Cassandra reaching for some paper and a pen.

She may be a coward for waiting for this long, but Rosa Diaz will not die without confessing the only secret she's harboured for years.

* * * 

Somehow, by some miracle or prayer from up above, Rosa's fever breaks.

Her cuts are still sore and infected, but she's not nearly as sick as she once was a week ago. Cassandra's steady nursing and patience came a long way in her healing and Rosa will forever be indebted to the other woman for caring for her when no one else would. And while her knee is dislocated, she instructed Cassandra on how to properly reduce it and set the joint back in place. It isn't much, and she can still hardly walk, but it's enough. The bruises along her face as still purple and some are black, and her eye is still half-swollen and inflamed. The cuts are closing up, slowly but steadily.

"Diaz, get up. You've got visitors again."

Rosa stirs from her bed, coughing as she feels her stomach flip. While her fever is broken and she's somewhat coherent, she's still sick. Her appetite hasn't returned, and her mouth now feels ashen and heavy. She's definitely lost a lot of weight since the last time she'd seen Holt and Terry, with her bones now threatening to poke through her skin. She hears Cassandra coming to help her, but Rosa holds up her hand patiently. 

"I can do it," she says with a stubborn grunt, even though her arms tremble as she attempts to lift herself up. "Just… give me a second."

Rosa tentatively shifts herself around, taking her time with each bout of dizziness that threatens to overwhelm her as she makes her way to her feet. She grips onto the poles of the bed frame to steady her before she places her weight on both feet, wincing when her knee shakes under the pressure. She looks up to see Cassandra looking at her in concern, unsure if walking towards the visitor's centre is something in her capability or not.

"I'm okay," Rosa rasps as she stands as straight as she can, "I can do this."

Cassandra nods, silent as she moves back to allow Rosa room to leave her cell. It takes some time before she can reach the officer that called for her, and Rosa feels relief when she notices it's someone new. Someone with a fresh face and a sympathetic gaze, someone that Rosa doesn't fear will reach for the baton and take to her. In fact, this officer--Munroe, as she reads from her name tag--offers her arm and gives Rosa the help she needs to make her way down the hall. They walk slowly, with Rosa taking breaks as frequently and lengthily as she can to just catch her breath, but they make it.

When Rosa walks into the booth to see Amy and Holt sitting there, writing things down on a pad of paper, Rosa has never felt more happy.

She moves away from the guard and makes the last few feet on her own, limping heavily and nearly falling off the chair as she plops down on it. When she sits down, Amy and Holt's heads jerk up, and both of them wear expressions of concern and shock immediately. Rosa takes a deep breath as she reaches for the phone, holding it to her ear as she lets her elbow lean on the table. She sighs in exertion, feeling her head spin once again.

"Jesus, Rosa…," Amy trails off, her voice quivering as she takes in Rosa's state. "You… what did they do to you?"

"Hawkins…," Rosa chokes out as she feels her shoulders shaking and sweat beading down her temple. "Has an officer on the inside. We… fought."

She knows that she's near incoherent now, but she gets the message across to her colleagues. Holt, still silent, stares on with a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. Rosa glances back up, swallowing down the pain as she looks at Amy with a small smile. "How's Jake doing? Is… is he holding up?"

"He's okay," Amy says as steadily as she can, not bothering to wipe her tears as she takes in the sight of her injured friend. "He's somehow joined a prison gang _and_ is working for the warden, so he's okay as he can be. He's alive, the last I checked. I just… Rosa, you look…"

Rosa licks her lips, wheezing as another round of coughs tears through her body, rattling her frame.

"I… I need a doctor," Rosa rasps as she leans her head against the wall of the booth, struggling to stay awake. "The cuts… they're infected."

"They are legally supposed to provide you with medical support," Holt interjects, fury seeping into his tone. "We can file for negligence."

"No luck," Rosa chuckles before coughing again. "Hawkins' is in charge. She'll… f-find a loophole. I-I'll die b-before I g-get help."

Holt grows quiet again, his stare pensive and serious as he looks away, as if almost guilty. Rosa turns to Amy, barely conscious now as she feels sweat continue to slide down her forehead. The walk to get to the visitor booths was enough to take most of her energy out of her, and Rosa realizes with a pathetic little laugh, just how weak she's become since she'd taken the beating. She struggles to stay awake as Amy tells her about a plan for Hawkins.

"We need someone to talk to her for three minutes," Amy says as she looks to Rosa worriedly. "We were hoping it would be you."

"T-Talk about w-what?" Rosa stammers now, her teeth chattering as she feels her skin heat up and chill at the same time. Amy gulps.

"Tell her you need a doctor," Amy supplies as she watches Rosa's body go flush. "Beg if you have to. I swear, Rosa, once we swap her phone, we'll find out when the next shipment is going down and we'll catch her. And we'll get you out of there, I promise. We just need this one thing from you."

Rosa thinks about it, her body aching with the memories of the last time she'd defied Hawkins.

"Fine," she sighs as she shivers again, "s-set the t-time."

* * *

When Rosa meets Hawkins, she's even sicker than before.

Her skin is grey and scaly, her lips chapped and bleeding, and the mottled bruises on her face still haven't faded. She can barely sit upright anymore, with the strain of the dried, infected cuts on her back weighing her body down in an unnatural shape. Her swollen eye is cloudy and she can barely see out of it anymore. Her fingernails are yellowed and her gums ache and bleed. Her leg is swollen and she can't walk to the bathroom without collapsing.

But when Hawkins sees her, all she can do is laugh.

"Little Rosa Diaz," Hawkins coos as she shakes her head. "You called me here?"

Rosa gulps down the anger and resentment that burbles up and nods. "I did."

"For what?" Hawkins asks, bored. "You're looking a little worse for wear these days. Heard that you had an issue with the _plumbing_. Tough luck."

Rosa growls as she clenches the phone harder in her hands, willing herself to not lose control. So, she takes a breath and starts over.

"I _need_ a d-doctor," she stumbles on the words as she feels her head spin again. "I'm… I'm sick. I need help… p-please."

"And how am I supposed to help?" Hawkins chuckles as she leans forward. "You're the one who pissed off my officers."

Rosa shakes her head, feeling tears mist in her eyes as she trembles in her seat. She's fighting a losing battle and she knows it, but Amy told her to keep Hawkins busy for three minutes, so she'll do it. She nods her head back up, takes a breath, regains her composure, and then does what she's told.

Rosa begs, and begs, and begs, but soon the three minutes are over and all she can do is wait and hope for the Nine-Nine to succeed.

* * * 

It isn't until two days later, when Rosa is wheezing and sweating in bed-- _barely alive_ \--that a doctor enters her cell with a triage team and stretcher.

The warden stands behind him, looking displeased and annoyed as she says, "you're free, Diaz. Your squad busted Melanie Hawkins last night."

And with that, Rosa closes her eyes and lets herself fall into the land of a peaceful, undisturbed sleep.

* * * 

The next time she wakes up, it's to the sound of beeping.

Rosa blinks her eyes open slowly, noticing instantly that she's laying on her side with supports along her back and neck. She's got a thick cast wrapped around her knee and a tensor bandage around her chest and ribs, but most importantly, there's a mesh of gauze and padding along her back. Her head is dizzy and she feels weak, but as she slowly adjusts to the rhythmic sounds of whirring and beeping, Rosa realizes that she's in a hospital.

"About time you woke up, sleeping beauty."

Rosa's gaze flickers open again as she stares at the blurred image of Gina in front of her, looking at her with puffy red eyes and flushed cheeks. She goes to answer, but her mouth is dry with the lack of use. She coughs, her entire back erupting in pain as she dry heaves. Luckily, Gina is there with a metal surgical container as Rosa coughs out nothing but bile and saliva. When she's done Gina dumps the contents in the sink and takes a wipe to gently clean the area of Rosa's mouth. She then reaches for a small cup of water with a straw and holds it to Rosa's mouth, tipping the straw forward.

"Slow sips, okay?" Gina whispers, as if she's afraid any louder would cause Rosa to break. "Come on Ro-Ro, don't wuss out on me now."

Rosa wraps her lips around the straw and sucks, the action drawing more energy than she'd thought as she lets the cool water hydrate her throat. When she's done, Gina places the cup back on the counter and takes a seat at the chair beside her bed. Rosa looks her up and down, chuckling lightly.

"Y-You had t-the baby," Rosa rasps as she moves her fingers lightly in the direction of Gina's now flat stomach. Gina smiles, her hands going to cover her midsection as she nods, blinking back tears when Rosa coughs again before whispering, " _Te ves bien… te ves muy linda en ese vestido_."

The switch back to Spanish is more to conserve energy than anything else. While Rosa grew up bilingual, Spanish has always come easier to her, so it makes sense that when she's upset, or angry, or tired, that she slips back into her mother tongue. But, judging by the blush on Gina's cheeks, it works.

"Thanks," Gina says quietly, reaching out to gently place her fingers atop Rosa's own. "You don't look so bad yourself, Piper Chapman."

" _Soy fea ahora,_ " Rosa mutters with a low chuckle, causing Gina to sniffle and giggle alongside of her. " _Pero gracias, mi amor._ "

"Your love, huh?" Gina asks, her thumb lightly running soothing lines on the inside of Rosa's wrist. "That's new…"

Rosa, mind clouded and foggy, just nods as she lays on the pillow, her body starting to feel tired again as she lapses in and out of consciousness. She wants to tell Gina so many things; that she loves her, that she wants to spend the rest of her life with her, that she wants to marry her, but her body has other plans. The only thing that she can do is give Gina's hand a gentle squeeze before she lets her head rest on the pillow and starts to doze.

"I got your letter," she hears Gina say softly before squeezing her hand. "And Rosa? I know you're about to pass out but… _te quiero._ "

* * * 

"Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm _Nine-Nine_ welcome to Jake Peralta and Rosa Diaz!"

Jake walks beside Rosa as they make their way into Shaw's bar, side-by-side, free at last. Amy is the first to walk up to them, looping her arms around Jake's neck and asking if she can buy a free man a drink. Jake simply butchers the moment with a weird pun, but it makes Amy laugh and when she leans in to kiss Jake, Rosa can't help but dwell on what it might feel like to kiss Gina. But instead of dwelling on the sadness, Rosa looks to Amy.

"Hey," she says pointedly, "I'm here too."

"Hi Rosa," Amy says as she leans up against Jake's chest, her eyes warm and soft and full of love. "It's good to see you back on your feet."

"Well, more like a foot and a half."

Everyone turns around to see Gina in the doorway, donning a smirk on her lips. "Hi everyone, it's Gina Linetti. I've _also_ returned."

"Gina," Rosa breathes out as she hobbles over to the shorter woman with her cane. "You're here. But I thought you were still on mat leave?"

"You think I'd miss your great entrance without crashing it, didn't you?" Gina asks, smiling as she reaches up to fiddle with some of Rosa's stray curls. Rosa sighs with happiness, eager to let her eyes shut and not be haunted by the events that occurred in the prison. She still gets nightmares and has panic attacks whenever she's near a shower, but she is starting to acclimatize to being back home.

Slowly, but steadily, Rosa starts to feel normal again.

"I missed you," Rosa tells her, whispering so Jake and Amy--who are busy lost in each other anyways--are unable to hear them. "I… I love you."

Gina's smile grows wider and Rosa can't help but let their hands dangle together as they stand, grinning at each other in the dim light of the bar. "Well," Gina says as she looks down to their tangled fingers and then back up at Rosa's eyes. "Even if it took you long enough… I love you, too."

"Alright everyone, we're doing toasts!"

Gina and Rosa turn around to see Terry with a round of beer bottles. Rosa takes one and hands the other to Gina, trying hard to hide her smile when Gina's free hand moves from their fingers to wind around her waist. Something in Rosa's heart flutters as she feels Gina's fingers, slender and firm, gently stroking underneath the padding on her back. Even though she's taller, she smiles when she feels Gina allow her to rest some of her weight against the other woman's shoulder. Gina's head falls onto Rosa's shoulder and even though she's not out yet, Rosa doesn't care.

Rosa's been in love with Gina Linetti since they first met and after so many years of pining, she can finally admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a little side project while i work on my actual first b99 ship bc i need more canon compliant angst talking about rosa's experiences like my dude why did no one assume that she had a rough time in prison or that she didn't have problems adjusting coming back we were robbed i tell you, robbed!
> 
> anyways idk if y'all liked this or not, i know it was rough in certain places but hopefully not too rough.


	2. prohibition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more sad rosa bc i'm still a little salty that there was a lot of emphasis of jakes' time in prison affecting him post-release, and yet rosa is totally fine and bla bla bla but like i need angst so here you go!!
> 
> also rosa broke up with adrian at some point but like i didn't include it here bc i didn't really care to.
> 
> tw: alcohol and drug abuse.

When Holt tells her that she's no longer on field duty, Rosa doesn't argue back.

Unlike Jake, who's seemingly furious at the idea of sitting at a desk and doing paperwork, Rosa is rather relieved. While it's been almost a week since she was medically cleared to come back to work, she still hasn't gotten rid of some of the lingering memories of her time spent in prison. Her arms still tremor whenever she's reaching for something, and she still feels nervous walking into a public bathroom or an enclosed space.

But what really irks Rosa the most, is that no one really seems to notice.

And maybe that is partially her fault for not telling the squad that she went through hell. But it doesn't make a difference, because Rosa knows that Amy and Holt had seen her at her worst, had seen the pain in her eyes and the bruises on her body. And part of Rosa is frustrated, because when she and Jake returned to the precinct, the welcome seemed to mostly revolve around the latter man. It shouldn't bother her, Rosa knows this because she's a badass who doesn't rely on the approval or attention of others, but with Jake telling stories of joining a gang and leading a drug bust… it hurts.

"It's so great that you're here again," Charles says with an excited little giggle, "I can finally interview you for my podcast: A God in Shackles. It's about your unlawful arrest and it was one of the things that led Holt to realizing that Hawkins was using the pigs as a form of drug transportation."

"Uh, _hells_ yes," Jake says with a fist-pump, grinning as he looks around the precinct. "Man, prison stunk like a butt. But I am so happy to be back."

"It's really nice to see you across from my desk again," Amy chimes in, her arm winding around Jake's own. "I really missed you, babe."

Rosa just watches on from the safety of her own desk, silently and stupidly wishing for someone to come up to her and express that amount of love and care. She'd overheard from a conversation between Terry and Amy that the squad often visited Jake in prison to either discuss the case or to check in on him, to make sure he was safe. And Rosa gets it, that Jake is not soft or delicate, but that he is different than her. Rosa's built herself a reputation of being a fearless, ruthless, and all-around tough woman who is incapable of feeling anything other than a residual state of anger.

But right now? Rosa's not angry. She's scared, upset, and most of all, she's _lonely_.

The worst part is, when Rosa looks to the desk opposite to her, her heart sinks like a bullet has carved its way through it. 

* * * 

The nightmares come frequently.

Sometimes it's the shower. Sometimes it's the cafeteria. Sometimes, it's not even her that is getting beat.

Sometimes, Rosa sees Gina's face instead of Cassandra's, and sometimes, she doesn't get there in time.

Each time she wakes up, covered in sweat and breathing hard, Rosa finds it harder to find a reason to sleep. She keeps a bottle of her cheapest whiskey at her bedside table, coupled with the pain meds the doctor had prescribed for her back and knee. Rosa's a cop, and she's damned good at her job, but sometimes, on nights like these, Rosa can't be a cop. She mixes the medication with the alcohol and she finds herself slip into a dreamless slumber.

It's not a good coping method, but it's something.

And something, for Rosa, is better than nothing.

* * *

"You haven't called me since Shaw's."

Rosa looks up from the table in the coffee shop to see Gina slide into the booth beside her. She straightens, wincing at the dull ache. The doctor had said something about permanent nerve damage, but Rosa pushes that thought aside for the moment as she stares at Gina with a perplexed expression.

"I've… been busy."

"Which is Rosa-code for 'get away from me'. Don't think I don't know you," Gina says, though not accusingly. "Don't get wordy with me, Diaz. It's not your style." Rosa sighs as Gina leans back in the booth, her brows arched as she waits for Rosa to answer. Unable to give a response, Rosa just reaches for her beverage, sipping lightly. Gina watches the motion with furrowed brows before she looks to the clock on her phone in confusion.

"It's almost eleven o'clock in the morning," Gina says as she arches her brow, "even by my standards, this is a little early to start drinking."

Rosa frowns as she sets her cup down. "I'm not drinking," she says, trying to pull off her most convincing face. "It's herbal tea."

Before Rosa can explain further, Gina reaches across the table and grabs her cup, taking a sip with a grimace.

"This whiskey is cheaper than Hitchcock's toupee," Gina scowls as she puts the cup down before looking up at Rosa in concern. "You don't even drink coffee, so now you're mixing whiskey in it? Rosa, what's going on?" Rosa just shakes her head, feeling the familiar anger purse through her.

It's an unresolved anger, one of embarrassment and humiliation. She was taken down so quickly, beaten bloody, and left helpless. And when Holt and Amy came to see her, they seemed more concerned about using her medical excuse as a means of furthering the investigation into their case. And while the logical side of her knows that they did what they had to in order to free her from that hell, it still hurts that Rosa felt that vulnerable in the first place. It hurts her that she was left exposed and hurt, and yet they'd not pried further, not offered her sympathy or fought for her safety.

It's all… blurry.

"Rosa?"

Rosa blinks up, not realizing that her cheeks are damp. She quickly reaches up and swipes at the tears, looking away from Gina in shame.

"You should go," Rosa rasps even if her heart wants the complete opposite. "I'm fine, Gina. We'll talk soon."

"You're not okay," Gina observes, her tone steady and nonchalant as she continues to look on. "You can fool everyone, but you can't fool me."

Rosa thinks about it for a few moments, her lips trembling as she looks up and quietly asks, "why?"

Gina stands and walks over to Rosa's side of the booth before placing her hand on Rosa's shoulders.

"Because you can't hide things from the people you love," Gina explains, her voice tender but still firm. "And I love you a lot, Rosa."

* * *

Usually, Rosa takes her showers in the morning, but after a busy day at rehab and at the precinct, she finds herself in need of being clean. 

It's dark around her apartment as Rosa walks into the bathroom. She finishes her business on the toilet before reaching into the shower stall to turn the water on. The sound is drilling, the spray against the tile loud and violent, but Rosa shakes it off. She's safe, she reminds herself as she takes a deep breath. She's in her own home, and she is safe. Just as Rosa is about to take her shirt off when she looks down and notices her hands trembling. 

When Rosa looks up in the mirror, she sees herself in an orange jumpsuit, covered in bruises and cuts.

And behind her, she sees Figgis, Sánchez, Richman, and Hawkins smirking with their arms crossed.

"Fuck it," she says as she turns off the tap in the shower. 

She'll shower tomorrow.

* * *

The next night is worse.

Rosa drinks more and more, afraid of what will come in her dreams if she doesn't coat it first. She stays sitting by her couch in her fully-lit living room with the bottle in one hand and her favourite machete in the other. She drinks until the bottle runs dry and her body slumps against the cushions. 

When she hears a buzzing sound, she startles and stands with a jolt. Even in her inebriated state, she's still alert and ready.

But, when she looks down to see that it's Gina calling her, Rosa drops the machete and plops back down on the couch.

She contemplates leaving the phone to be, to talk to Gina in the morning when she's sober and less volatile, but her drunk mind has better ideas.

 _"Aló?"_ She manages to respond without slurring, switching to Spanish out of comfort and ease. _"Gina, eres tù? Mi amor, que pasa?"_

"Have you been drinking?" Gina asks, her voice clipped. Rosa rolls her eyes, even though she knows Gina won't see it.

 _"Que te importa?"_ Rosa quips back, chuckling. _"Soy una mujer libre; haré lo que quiera."_

"I'm coming over," Gina says, and before Rosa can even reply, the line goes dead.

And to her word, not even ten minutes later, there's a knock on her door. Rosa rises from her feet and stumbles her way over to the door, peering through the peephole to see Gina standing with a baby carrier in her hand. Frowning, Rosa opens the door and watches as Gina's eyes go from her own eyes to the empty bottle of whiskey she's still holding. Rosa, on the other hand, is completely focused on the tiny sleeping baby in Gina's arms.

"I couldn't get the sitter because it's so damn late," Gina mutters as she enters Rosa's apartment. "I'm going to set her up in the guest room with the monitor and then we are sobering you up. After, I'm giving you a shower because for _fuck's_ _sake_ Rosa, you smell like the inside of Scully's shoes."

"No showers," Rosa hiccups as she shakes her head vehemently. "No, I'm not showering."

When Gina just responds with another eye roll and silent treatment, Rosa feels her anxiety quicken. She watches as Gina turns on her feet and makes her way over to the guest bedroom with practiced ease. No one has ever really known where she lived, but Gina is one of two (the other person being Jake, and only for the sake of the Hawkins' mission and nothing more) and she's been here enough times to know the layout of her place. So, as Rosa knows that there's no escaping from the confrontation (she sure as hell can't drive when she's toasted), she plops down on the couch with a wince.

"Alright," Rosa hears Gina's voice a few moments later. "Put the bottle down and come on. We're giving you a bath, then."

_Baths are inefficient. Give her a shower, ladies._

"No!" Rosa damn near yelps as she stands up, backing away from Gina as she feels her mind playing tricks. "Stop it. Don't come closer."

"Rosa, what's gotten into you?"

_Don't kill her. We still need the bitch alive._

"Stop," Rosa pleads as tears well in her eyes and her breaths come and go faster than before. She trips over a step and lands on her back, pulling a pained hiss from her lips. Still, Gina keeps approaching. But, the closer the comes, the less like Gina she looks, and more like Richman. Rosa shakes her head and shoves at the floor, attempting to crawl away from the source of her nightmares for the past few weeks. Gina's voice stops being it's usual low timbre, and turns into something harsh, angry, and vindictive. She hears the mocking laughs of the other offenders, the crack of her belt, the threats--

"Rosa, look at me!"

Rosa blinks up, her eyes blurry with tears as she sees Gina clutching onto her shoulders and holding her close. With practiced calm, one of Gina's hands takes her own before placing it on Gina's own chest. Rosa hiccups, her breaths still coming at hyper-speed, but as she feels the steadying beat of Gina's heart beneath her palm, she attempts to match her breathing to the other woman. It takes some time, but she eventually finds herself calming down.

"I… I'm sorry," Rosa stammers once she's caught her breath. She leans against the wall behind her and closes her eyes. "I… I never meant to do that."

"Do you get flashbacks a lot?" Gina asks, maneuvering herself so that she's sitting beside Rosa. "That was… intense, Rosa. What happened?"

Rosa's shoulders tremble and the spike of pain down her spine is enough to cause Gina's brow to furrow in recognition.

"They _hated_ me," Rosa rasps in a quiet, broken whisper as she looks up to Gina with a teary expression. "I was so alone, Gina. I couldn't stop them."

Gina's arms wind around Rosa's frame, pulling her in for a hug that Rosa's too weak to resist. Instead, she burrows into Gina's embrace, tucking her face in the nape of the other woman's neck as she feels her walls shatter. She sobs, her entire body quaking with the force of her cries as she tries to blot away the memories of the trauma she'd experienced while in prison. No matter what she does, she still hears and sees everything from that night.

"What did they do?" Gina murmurs, her hands slowly rubbing up and down her back. "Did they… do this?"

Rosa takes a deep breath and weaves her fingers into Gina's warm flannel shirt. She takes strength in Gina's arms around her, comforting her.

And then, when Rosa is finally ready, she gives the barest of nods.

Gina sucks in a deep breath, and Rosa can feel the anger flowing off the other woman in waves. She feels it in the subtle clenching of Gina's fingers on her arm and the muttering of some profanity in Italian under her breath. Rosa's lips turn up in a sad, half-smile as she feels Gina's lips in her hair.

"I won't let them touch you again," Gina whispers with determination and ire in her voice. "I promise, Rosa. You're not alone anymore."

For the first time since she step foot back in the world as a free woman, Rosa feels safe.

* * *

Even with Gina's help, Rosa still finds herself rather stuck.

The drinking doesn't stop, and neither does the medication. She shows up to work either hungover or still drunk, but she vows to not it affect her work. And once again, as she notices the precinct bumble and buzz around her like normal, Rosa's biggest fears become far more evident. Amy and Jake continue their flirting from across her desk, Charles shows her four hundred pictures of Nikolaj's first day in something called capoeira, and Terry raves about his new favourite flavour of yogurt. Even Captain Holt, who's usually the most observant despite his stoicism, remains rather estranged.

The loneliness is bitter, Rosa decides one night as she works late at the precinct, but alcohol is warm. Alcohol is _constant_.

So when most of the squad has gone home and only a few of the night-shifters remain, Rosa pours a shot of scotch in her empty mug before downing two more painkillers. She sets herself to work on closing up the last of her paperwork, and before she knows it, she falls asleep atop her desk.

No one wakes her until morning, when Holt comes in and asks her why she pulled an all-nighter when she's only doing paperwork.

Rosa swallows that question and gives a bleak answer, one that Holt accepts before he stalks back into his office, completely unaffected.

It's a lingering thought, one that is poisonous and retched, but it is one that starts to become more valid the longer she acknowledges it.

Perhaps, she thinks as she looks around the precinct with tired eyes, no one really missed her anyways.

It's dangerous and Rosa knows she is probably wrong, but it's the probably that trips her up.

There was no podcast made about her, there was nothing done to acknowledge her time in prison, no questions from the squad on her wellbeing, and the only person that had come to visit her in the hospital had been Gina, and that was solely because Rosa had selfishly listed Gina as her emergency contact before she'd gone on trial. No one had sent her get well soon cards, flowers, or even came by to ask how she's been recovering since leaving.

And it stings, Rosa thinks to herself as she subtly pours herself another shot of scotch in her mug, because the whole reason she stayed was because of the Nine-Nine. When Holt had come to her on that bus, preaching about family and about the lives around her, it had all just been a trap.

Logically, Rosa doesn't believe it.

But there's some part of her, the vulnerable and exposed part of her, that does.

* * * 

Talking to her parents isn't exactly what she expects.

Her father and mother sit in front of her at the restaurant, their expressions both mixed with fear and worry.

"You were… incarcerated?" Her father asks, choking on the word as her mother sniffles. "But… you're a detective. What did you do?"

Rosa flinches at the accusatory tone that he uses, but she reminds herself that he's asking based on what he knows about her. She was a rough kid from the start; loud, aggressive, and at times violent, she lacked discipline. It was one of the reasons why she was forced into catholic school, and then later at the American Ballet Academy. She learned self-restraint and anger management, even if sometimes she still let her temper slip as an adult.

"I was framed," Rosa explains as she cuts into her steak slowly. "Jake and I were trying to uncover this dirty cop and they framed us at a bank robbery."

"You were in prison for six months?" Her mother cuts in as she looks her up and down. "Were you okay? Did they hurt you, baby?"

And this is what she misses, Rosa thinks as she looks to her mother's worried expression. She swallows the steak in her mouth before setting down her fork and knife. She weighs her options, not sure if she wants to tell her mother the extent of what happened to her while she was incarcerated.

"They, uh, didn't like cops," Rosa says instead, leaving her parents to fill in the gaps with their imagination. "It was tough, but I survived."

"You always were a fighter," her father chuckles sadly as he subtly reaches up to wipe away a tear. "I'm… I'm just glad you're okay, _mija_."

 _"Gracias Papa,"_ Rosa says as she looks back up at him with a half-hearted expression. _"Además… lo siento. Por no mantenerse en contacto."_

" _Mija_ ," her father replies as he reaches across the table to squeeze her hand. "It's okay. We'll just have to make up the years somehow."

"Family game night," her mother interjects with a soft smile as she places her hand atop her father's own. "We'll do it once a week."

"You really want all of us to play games together?" Rosa chuckles as she blinks back happy tears. "We're all competitive by nature, Mama."

"Competition makes it more exciting," her father says with a smile as he lets go of their hands. "Besides, I think we could all use a little fire right now."

* * * 

"Hey Rosa, can you cover my shift on Friday night?"

Rosa nods her head up at the sound of Amy's voice as the other woman comes and sits across from her in the break room. 

"I'm busy," Rosa says as she looks back down to her paperwork. "I'm meeting my parents for dinner."

"Oh not this excuse again," Amy laughs as she leans back in her chair. "C'mon, Rosa. You can barely stand your parents."

Rosa flinches at that, her brows narrowing as she glares at the other detective. She puts her file down and grits out, "I said, I'm busy."

"What? Do you have another mystery boyfriend to introduce them to?" Amy asks, prodding deeper. "I thought you and Adrian--"

"It's not about Adrian," Rosa mutters as she clenches her fingers around her pen. "I… I've been talking with them more since I got out of prison. We're meeting for weekly dinners so that we can… catch up on stuff." Amy nods, scratching at her head as she digests the information. Rosa rolls her eyes.

"I don't need your approval, Santiago. I told you I was busy, so you're gonna have to find someone else."

"No, no, it's not that. It's just…," Amy trails off as she looks up at Rosa in confusion. "It's just… you hate human contact and talking about 'feelings'."

"Yeah, well. Things change."

"Apparently," Amy quips with a chuckle. "Looks like the heartless Diaz actually has a heart after all. It's cute!"

Rosa's fingers clench into fists again as she sucks in a deep breath, trying to ignore how much the seemingly playful jab prods dangerously at her core.

"I'm leaving, Santiago. Find someone else for your shift because I'm not taking it."

"Copy that, Tin Man."

* * *

"My parents asked if I was seeing anyone," Rosa says as Gina hands her a sleeping Iggy. "I told them that I was, but that it was new."

"Have you told them that it's a girl?" Gina asks as she settles beside Rosa on the couch, watching over Rosa's shoulder as Iggy continues to sleep peacefully in the detective's strong arms. Rosa cradles her close, still not over the feeling of holding something so precious and small so gently.

"I didn't want to go into it yet," Rosa replies with a quiet sigh as she reaches up and lightly traces Iggy's cheek with her finger. "Our relationship is still pretty new. I didn't really like talking to them about stuff before, so the fact that we're even talking about the weather is an achievement in itself."

"Hmm," Gina hums as she leans over to kiss Rosa on the cheek. "I love you."

Rosa blushes, like she always does whenever Gina says those three words. She turns her head so she can kiss Gina on the lips, softly and slowly.

"I love you too," she murmurs against the other woman's lips, "and… I don't know what I'd have done without you."

Gina is quiet at that, her fingers reaching up to thread through Rosa's unruly curls with tentative strokes. It's a domestic moment, really, the three of them sitting on the couch (or technically, two of them sitting and the other sleeping) just taking in the presence of each other. There's no TV or radio playing, but the silence isn't suffocating. In fact, a part of Rosa feels soothed just by Gina's presence as they sit beside each other quietly.

"You know," Rosa mumbles after awhile as she looks down at Iggy. "She looks more like you than Melvin."

" _Milton_ ," Gina corrects with a soft laugh. "And thanks, I worked hard to make sure she walked away with the best of both worlds."

"I can't believe you spawned a Boyle-Linetti creation. I mean, this is literally Charles' nephew."

"This is why I wanted to keep it confidential," Gina chuckles with a roll of her eyes. "But he's so damn nosy, he's like a little mole."

"Nah, he's too innocent to be a mole. He's more like a mouse. A harmless, inquisitive, cheese-loving mouse."

Gina laughs at that softly before she leans over and kisses Rosa's lips again, moaning as Rosa kisses back with just the right amount of pressure. The two of them know better than to awaken Iggy, so Rosa gently lifts the baby and walks to the spare bedroom (which has inevitably become a make-shift nursery, but neither Rosa nor Gina will admit it just yet). The two women put the baby down in the cot and watch as she settles, before Rosa takes Gina's hand in her own and leads her back into the living room. They both settle on the couch again, with Rosa's arm around Gina's shoulder.

"How's your back?" Gina asks after awhile, her fingers tracing a line up and down Rosa's abs over her shirt. "I noticed this morning you were stiff."

"It comes and goes," Rosa sighs as she pecks Gina's forehead lovingly. "I have good days, but then… but then some are not so great."

"And the nightmares?" Gina asks, her voice cautious as she wanders into dangerous lands. "I know you're still having them, Rosa."

"Comes and goes," Rosa repeats, quieter now. "Sometimes they're too much to handle, but it's easier when you're around."

"Have you ever considered talking to someone about it?" Gina asks in a soft voice as she leans her head on Rosa's shoulder. "I mean, I know that your psych eval is coming up this week to figure out if you're capable of being reinstated. Maybe you could tell her what's going on."

"There's no need," Rosa dismisses quickly, brushing off the questions. "It's only at night that I have problems. This doesn't affect my day job."

"But you're still drinking," Gina continues to push as she leans off Rosa so they can sit, face-to-face. "Jake texted me that you were hungover at work the other day, and you weren't with me or him the night before." Rosa looks away, unwilling to dive down that rabbit hole with her girlfriend.

"I don't want to force you into anything," Gina tells her, placing a hand on her tensed knee. "I love you, babe, but I think that you're in a weird place right now and you haven't quite grasped your footing. And that's okay, you know? What you went through… what they did to you--"

"I don't want to talk about it," Rosa replies coldly as she stands, willing herself to stop thinking about the memories that have haunted her for the past few weeks. "I'm just… tired. I'm going to bed." Gina sighs when Rosa moves away from the couch and towards the main bedroom with a huff.

After using the toilet and brushing her teeth, Rosa changes into a ratty tank top and some boxer shorts before crawling into bed. She shuts off the light and turns on her side, staring out at the moonlight from the window. It takes a few more minutes before she feels the bed depress and Gina's arm loop around her middle. Tears well in Rosa's eyes as she feels Gina's fingers slip underneath the tank-top and skirt along the rigid, puffy scars on her back.

"I hate them, you know?" Gina whispers when Rosa feels soft lips kissing the back of her neck. "I hate them for what they did to you. They took so much from you and I hate that you're still suffering even when they're not here. I love you so much, and yet because of them, sometimes you're not here."

Rosa closes her eyes, feeling a tear slide down her nose and drip to her pillow. Gina's hands still on her back as the other woman inches closer, pressing their bodies together. Rosa reaches backwards slowly, drawing Gina's hands from her back and to the middle of her stomach instead, looping them around her abs so her back is pressed to Gina's chest. She squeezes Gina's fingers, before lifting one hand to her mouth so she can kiss it softly.

Rosa doesn't have words, not with the pit stuck in her throat, but she knows that Gina understands.

* * * 

Richman whips her, over and over again, and no matter how much Rosa begs her to stop, she never does.

The tiles beneath her turn into a sea of blood and she looks down at her reflection in the crimson.

Rosa screams when the face looking back at her isn't her own, but Gina's.

When she wakes up, sweaty and breathing hard, she removes Gina's arm from around her stomach and turns, memorizing every feature of Gina's sleeping face pressed into the pillows. Assured that the love of her life is safe, Rosa rises on trembling legs and heads for the kitchen. Her back feels like a fire pit, burning and searing hot pain all along the length of her. Limping slightly, Rosa goes to the liquor cabinet and grabs the nearest bottle of whiskey before pulls out the drawer next to it to grab at her pain medication. She downs the pills with a swig from the bottle before taking a seat on the bar stool by the island in the kitchen. She glances up at the time on the oven, noting that it's just over three o'clock in the morning.

As she looks to the bottle in her hands, she knows that Gina might be right, that she might have a problem, but drinking stops herself from feeling.

And isn't that what she is? Emotionless? Fearless? Numb? She scoffs, taking another swig of the bottle as she blinks back tears.

No, Rosa thinks as she rests her head against the mouth of the bottle, she doesn't even know who she is anymore.

* * * 

"Diaz, we need your help."

Rosa looks up from where she's finishing up a report to see Terry and Holt standing at her desk. Rosa wants to scoff, thinking about how ironic it is that now they're here, weeks after only limited and brief contact. The last she'd talked to Holt it was a few days ago, when he informed her that she was reinstated to do active field work and promptly assigned her a low-level insurance fraud case. It was quick, prompt, and brief. 

"What do you need?" Rosa asks, grinding her teeth to keep the anger from her voice.

"Cyber Crime is hogging our internet," Terry explains with a growl, "we have no bandwidth and we can't do anything up here. Scully's been trying to refresh WebMD for his enlarged nipple for the past two hours and he's gotten nothing." Rosa bites her lip, arching her brow as she stifles a scoff.

"And this concerns me because…?"

"Because, you are terrifying!" Amy chimes in as she comes to stand beside The Sarge. "And those guys are all dumb nerds. You love to beat up on dumb nerds, you even said it was your favourite past-time at Sex Crimes' Christmas party. You have like no feelings, so we figured you could intimidate them into giving our internet back, you know?" The old Rosa probably would have beamed at that, but this Rosa, the one that has had their life upturned so violently--this Rosa feels her lungs constrict at the jab. Rosa just looks down, trying to fight off the bubbling anxiety that courses through her. 

"Fine," Rosa sighs, even as her stomach churns violently. "Let's go."

They take the elevator down to the basement where Cyber Crime has set up their lodging, with the rest of the squad tailing behind her as she walks up to the leader of the group, Devin, with a pointed glare and her arms crossed. He looks to the group behind her, and then finally at her.

"And what are you here for?" Devin chuckles as he looks her over. "Let me guess, they sent you as muscle to try and scare me?"

"You don't want to find out," Rosa threatens, but she feels empty. There's no bite behind her words as she stares him down with a glare.

"Try me," Devin growls back, "I'd like to see you even break my pinky, lady."

Rosa goes to quip back, but then Devin raises his hand.

And just like that, Rosa's eyes go wide and the air leaves her lungs. Devin's face shifts and she sees Richman standing above her, baton raised and that manic smile splayed out on her face. She hears the cheering and goading of the other inmates, and suddenly it's too much to handle. Rosa blinks back to reality to see Devin standing there with a puzzled expression on his face, before he looks to the people behind him and bursts out laughing.

"She sure as hell _looks_ tough," he jokes as he backs up to his desk with a smirk. "But you're all bark, no bite. Nice try, Captain."

Rosa turns around to see the squad's confused looks and she shakes her head, pushing past them and heading for the elevator. She jabs the button multiple times, her breaths rushing in and out of her as she feels the tendrils of reality slip from her grasp one by one. Deciding that waiting for the elevator is not something she feasibly can do, she bustles through everyone to get to the stairs, before she takes them up two-by-two to their floor.

Rosa rushes to her desk and with shaky hands, fumbles in the drawer for her medication. She quickly shakes out two of the white pills before knocking them back. She glances up to see that the squad hasn't come back yet, so she quickly chases the meds with a small shot from her flask. She puts the items back and locks her drawer before taking a seat, urging her nerves to calm themselves as she stares at her computer screen.

A soft ding interrupts her thoughts and Rosa looks up to see the squad walk through, looking disgruntled.

"What was that Diaz?" Charles asks in confusion. "You choked up, and you never choke up! It was choke city in there, choke city!"

"Yeah! I bragged to Devin that you were the human version of a _Limewire_ virus," Jake cuts in with a shake of his head and a frown. Amy nods her head as she adds, "I would have flirted with them, but The Sarge said that I lacked the talents to attain the right kind of attention, whatever that means."

"Now I'll never know about my nipple," Scully pouts as he plops in his chair before pointing to Rosa. "If I die again, it's on you."

Rosa's hands clench and unclench as she feels her heart racing again. The meds take some time to kick in to leave her in a less hyped state, but right now, with everyone around her pouring out their questions and accusations, it's too much. Rosa bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, but no one notices as they all disperse and go back to their desks eventually. When Rosa notices their absence, she lets out a breath of relief.

"Detective Diaz."

Rosa looks up to see Holt still standing at her desk, his expression serious and stoic as he looks to her expectedly.

"What is it?" Rosa asks, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. "I'm trying to file this perp--"

"My office," he says, "now."

He doesn't give her time to respond as he heads in the direction of his office. Rosa takes a breath and swallows thickly, ignoring the nerves that create a ball in the pit of her throat as she follows him like a scolded puppy. She tries to hold her head up, but as soon as she walks into his office, her carefully crafted façade begins to crack at the seams. When she enters, Holt closes the door and blinds behind her before taking a seat in his chair.

"How long have you been drinking?" 

Rosa hasn't even sat down when Holt asks the question bluntly. Rosa's head jerks up and tears well in her eyes, her lip trembling.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Boyle's right. You never choke up at the mention of intimidating someone," Holt interrupts as he looks to her, not breaking eye-contact. "You're usually hostile to most people, but recently you've been timid, almost afraid. The squad corners you with questions and you don't have a snarky remark for an answer. When I reinstated you for active duty, you smelt like the inside of a bar, but I assumed you had gone with Peralta and the others for one of your weekly 'hangs'. But, when I asked him about it, he said you hadn't been to Shaw's since the celebration party of your joint release from incarceration."

Rosa's throat bobs as she struggles to swallow the pit in her throat as she looks to her boss in complete fear.

"And then today," Holt says, folding his hands on his desk, "when we came back up, I stood close enough to your desk to smell a '64 single malt, specifically the one Kevin and I had gifted you when you had helped us with Gerty's engine renovation a few weeks ago. Now, judging by the potency of the alcohol and your innate resentment of gift-giving, the bottle has not left your office since we'd given it to you, therefore it is in the precinct."

"I--"

"But that was not what tipped me off," Holt says as he looks to his phone. "I texted Gina to see if she could have any idea as to what was going on, seeing as though you two have always been relatively close. Now, I don't know the full nature of your relationship, but--"

"Captain, whatever she said, it's not true--"

"Rosa," Holt interrupts again, this time in a softer tone. "I am going to ask you this once, and only once. Have you been drinking at the office?"

Rosa is quiet for a few seconds, looking to the ground with a bitter scowl on her face as she nods slowly.

Holt sighs, and Rosa hates that she can hear the disappointment in the long breath that pushes past his lips.

"Drinking on the job is a fireable offence," Holt admonishes quietly, leaning back in his chair. "You should lose your badge over this."

"I…," Rosa trails off as her voice chokes up. "I just… I…"

But Rosa can't lie anymore. She's tired, she's lonely, and a small part of her has stopped caring about everything.

So she pauses, collects herself, and with defeated sigh, she looks up to Holt and says, "I need it. If I don't drink then I feel the pain."

Holt's eyes flash at the admission, but Rosa holds up her trembling hand as she offers him a shaky, watery smile. She reaches for her badge and places it on the table before prying off her jacket with a wince, reaching for her gun and holster, and the promptly placing the items beside her badge. She throws on her jacket and takes a deep breath, blinking back the tears that are welling in her eyes as she turns on her heel and walks out of his office.

Rosa feels everyone's eyes on her as she stalks out of the building, but she doesn't look back.

Staying was a mistake. Prison was a mistake.

 _Life_ was a mistake.

* * * 

Rosa lays in her bed, drinking the days away until she either passes out or vomits.

It's been a few weeks since she gave Holt her badge and gun, and every ounce of hope or will to live has been sucked dry. Gina visits every now and again to help clean her up, to feed her, and generally make sure that she's still alive. But whenever Gina tries to prod the bottle out of her hands or the meds from her lips, Rosa feels herself become an entirely different person. She's crueller, angrier, more defiant in her opposition.

She knows she's pushing Gina away, but she can't help it.

It's either she drinks to numb the pain, or it overwhelms her in full force.

"I can't keep doing this," Gina says one day, holding her hair back as she vomits in the toilet for the umpteenth time that day. Rosa leans back and rests her head against the tiled walls of her bathroom with a glazed expression, not bothering to wipe her mouth as she shakes her head. 

"They all ignored me," she spits as she swings her hand out to grip at the bottle of tequila at the side of the toilet, "I don't need you, either."

"You're being selfish," Gina tells her bluntly. "You have a lot of shit to work out Rosa, but this… this is enough. You're drinking yourself to death, and you're not doing anything to save yourself from it. And you know why you're selfish, Rosa? You spent so long waiting to tell me that you love me, and then when you get back and we finally fucking have a chance, here you are, fucking it up because you're too damn terrified of your feelings."

"It's not scared of my feelings," Rosa mutters as she takes another swig. "I'm not scared of anything, remember? I'm Rosa Diaz. _I have no feelings_."

"Rosa--"

"No!" Rosa shouts as she grinds her teeth and glares up at Gina with teary eyes. " _No_. Everyone is _scared_ of me because I have no feelings. 'Oh, Rosa, there's someone we need you to intimidate' or 'oh Rosa, you don't even like your parents, why are you having dinner with them'. I'm not… I'm not emotionless, Gina. I… I _feel_. I have always felt things but I'm not good at it and now… and now it's so overwhelming." Rosa's crying now as she shakes her head bitterly. She curls her knees up to her chest, trying to make herself appear smaller so she could just disappear forever.

Gina is silent as Rosa starts to rock into herself, trying to find a way to soothe the ache in her heart.

"I love you," Rosa whispers quietly, her voice croaking. "But they're right, Gina. I'm heartless. I… I can't love."

"I can't fix that for you," Gina tells her as she holds back her own tears. She stands up, wiping her hands on her pants. "I'm not your therapist, Rosa."

"Are… are you leaving?" Rosa asks pitifully, feeling her insides clench again as she gazes up at Gina. She waits, praying that Gina will shake her head and hold her, will comfort her that she's not abandoning her in a time of crisis, but to her dismay, Gina just looks away guiltily and sighs.

"I can't keep doing this," Gina says, "I have a daughter and I… I have to take care of her. I can't just take care of you, Rosa."

"I can take care of myself," Rosa pleads as she stumbles to her feet with a harsh sway. "Please… please don't leave me--"

"I have to go," Gina whispers as she reaches up to cup Rosa's face in her hands. "I love you… but I can't do this anymore, Rosa."

"Are you… are you breaking up with me?" Rosa gasps with a croak, her eyes puffy and sore as more tears continue to spill out. "Gina--"

"I'll wait for you," Gina tells her as she leans up on her tip toes to kiss her clammy forehead before standing down. "But I won't wait forever, Rosa."

"I love you," Rosa cries as she winds her arms around Gina's waist and holds her close. "Please… you can't go… I need you… I _love_ you, Gina--"

"Rosa," Gina croaks as she pushes Rosa's arms away. "You need help. I… I can't do that for you. If you get treatment, it has to be on your terms. And when you do, I'll be there to help you, but right now, I can't do this on my own. I can't be your girlfriend if all you're doing is making me your crutch--"

"That's not true," Rosa begs as she falls to her knees, pressing her cheek into Rosa's stomach. "I care about you, Gina. I care about you and Iggy, and I know that I'm fucked up right now, but all I'm asking for is a chance. Please… please just don't leave me. I promise you I'll change. I swear--"

"I can't," Gina whispers as she backs away with a tearful shake of her head. "For my daughter and for me… I can't. Not right now."

Rosa just looks up from where she's on her knees as Gina sighs, closes her eyes, and whispers, "goodbye, Rosa. For now."

And then, with a turn of her feet and a hanged head, Gina Linetti walks out of her life and leaves Rosa on her knees, devastated.

* * * 

Rosa drinks even more after Gina leaves her, to the point of lethality.

It's a fatal mistake, but it's Rosa's rock bottom when Jake and Amy break into her apartment after weeks of no contact only to find her passed out on the bed with vomit in her mouth and empty bottles of scotch rolled on the floor. She's barely conscious when she feels Amy turn her on her side and scoop out the bitter acid in her mouth and hold her head up to make sure air flows through her airways. She hears Jake's desperate and panicked voice on the phone as he calls for paramedics. She's quivering and trembling, her stomach flipping as she dry heaves but nothing comes out.

"Hang in there," Amy soothes her as her shaky fingers stroke down her back, "come on, Rosa. You're tough, you can fight this."

But the thing is, as she lays there, floating in and out of her own body, she realizes doesn't want to fight anymore.

So Rosa lets go, closes her eyes, and lets herself fall into the abyss.

* * * 

When she wakes up to beeping again, it's all too familiar.

There are voices talking around her, the words muffled and low, but Rosa makes out a few pieces here and there.

"I didn't know it had gotten this bad."

"How did we not notice? We're supposed to be her family."

"I never asked if she was okay… I just assumed she was."

"She's never failed us before, but we failed her today."

Rosa wants to cry, but she has no energy left in her body so she just makes an awkward coughing noise.

"She's waking up! Quick, Jake, get the doctor."

Rosa blinks open her eyes, squinting against the harsh light as she watches a blurred face come into view. Rosa moves her head to the side, her vision beginning to clear as she notices Amy standing at her bedside. Her eyes are puffy and red, and her lipstick is smudged. Her mascara has left streaks around her cheeks, kind of making her look more like a racoon than a fierce detective. Rosa blinks again up at her, still too tired to speak.

"Hey, ssh, it's okay. You're okay," Amy soothes as her hands slowly and shakily stroke her hair. "You're at Brooklyn Methodist. You're safe."

"W-What… w-what…," Rosa chokes on the words as she tries to speak, but Amy shakes her head and continues to stroke her hair.

"You had your stomach pumped," Amy explains in a soft voice as her other hand reaches down to squeeze her limp hand. "You… you died, Rosa. I gave you CPR while we waited for the paramedics, but if they'd gotten there just a moment later…" Amy can't even finish the sentence as she closes her eyes.

"We're sorry," Amy whispers after a few moments, looking up at the room. Rosa follows her gaze sluggishly to see the entire squad there. Holt and Terry are standing in the corner with guilty expressions, while Hitchcock and Scully are at the opposite side of the room with flowers and a get well soon card that looks awfully like the ones often given to elderly patients undergoing various replacement surgeries. But they look earnest and solemn as they nod.

"We're sorry," Amy repeats, drawing Rosa's attention back to her. She clears her throat, trying again. "We're sorry because we didn't think you were struggling. We… we ignored the little things because we thought you were okay. We all thought that because you were badass that you were impenetrable. We all thought that prison wouldn't get under your skin, that you would walk away bored of it all. But we never knew what they did to you." Amy sniffles as new tears start making their way down her cheeks. She's quick to wipe them away as Rosa watches on, breathing slowly.

"Most of all, I'm sorry. I… I came and saw you in prison with Captain Holt and even though you looked like you were dying, I just assumed that you were okay. You… you even pleaded for a doctor because you knew how bad it was but we turned a blind eye," Amy confesses with a choked voice, stifling a sob as she gives Rosa's hand another squeeze. "And I understand if you hate us right now, but Rosa, I just want you to know that we're all here for you. If you don't want us to be there, we'll also understand that, but I just need you to know that you will always be the squad's resident badass, but even the toughest of people need help sometimes. And… and we didn't realize that soon enough, and we're so sorry. We let you down because we were more comfortable hiding behind our own preconceived notions of your well-being, rather than acknowledging it for what it was."

Rosa's eyes water as Amy leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead softly before leaning back and wiping her eyes. She turns her head, her lungs struggling to retain the air from the oxygen mask around her mouth. She looks to Holt, who steps forward and takes Amy's place, his hand dwarfing her own as he holds it delicately. Rosa chokes on a sob, her eyelids drooping as she feels herself growing tired. Holt takes a breath as he stands by her side, stoic and unwavering as there's a click from the door. Rosa watches as Jake brings the doctor over, his eyes filled with guilt and sadness.

"Hey Rosa," Jake croaks as he gives a tiny wave. "I… I'm really glad you're awake."

Rosa tries to offer a smile, but her lips aren't strong enough. She knows that Jake saw her attempt, but rather than console him, the man just nods and blinks back his own tears before finding Amy's side. She watches, as the doctor checks her vitals, as Amy wraps her arms around him and comforts him with small kisses and soothing strokes of her fingers up and down his tensed back. Rosa's heart clenches as she thinks of Gina, the only one missing.

And that's when it hits her: Gina didn't come.

Rosa cries silently when the doctor tells her that her liver has massive scarring and that she's going to need to be put into an outpatient care immediately. He tells the rest of the squad of a cognitive-behavioural therapy program specifically designed for targeting alcohol use disorder, one that focuses on individual therapy first before it tackles group-based interventions. He lists off the various recommendations before he leaves.

But Rosa's tears aren't for any of that.

Rosa's tears are for Gina, the woman whom she loved, and the woman whom she betrayed.

* * * 

When Rosa's discharged from the hospital, her parents come to pick her up.

Her father looks disappointed but not disgusted as they find her, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed with her belongings in a spare bag.

"Why didn't you come to us?" He asks her as they help her to the car. "We could have done something, Rosa"

"I thought that you would be mad," Rosa murmurs as she slips into the back seat. "I thought that you wouldn't want to talk to me again."

There's a tense silence in the car as they just sit there in the hospital parking lot. Rosa looks out the window, tracing the droplets of rainwater as they roll down her window and disappear into the sealing between the glass and the door. She focuses on the even breathing of her mother as she waits for a response from either of them. Just as she's about to give up, to admit to herself that she'd been unrealistic about their involvement in her life, her father sighs and turns in his seat so that he can look at her. His eyes are solemn and worried, but Rosa can see the fierce love in them, too.

"Nothing you do could ever make me not talk to you," he tells her sternly, his voice trembling. "Your mother and I love you. And this? This is just another thing that we will work on, together, as a family… if that is something that you want." 

"What we're saying," her mother interjects with a watery smile, "is that we're here for you, _mija_. We love you, and so do your sisters. Even if you are older than them by a few years, they still care for you and want you to get better. We love you, my baby. We just want what's best for you, okay?"

Rosa nods, silent. There's a war waging in her heart, but for the first time since the nightmares started, Rosa knows what she has to do.

"I need you to take me somewhere," Rosa says quietly as she looks to her father. "I… I think it's time I started taking care of myself… for _me_."

* * *

Rosa goes through intensive, eight-session-long cognitive-behavioural therapy for her alcohol use and PTSD.

It's gruelling and intrusive, and Rosa's sure that her therapist knows that she would murder her if the therapeutic alliance was ever ruptured (as of yet, he's the only one who knows the most about her, whether she likes it or not). She talks of her childhood, of her upbringing, her unbridled love of learning (she may not be an Amy, but she still loved school--enough so to get a bachelor's, her MBA, and make it mid-way through med school). She talks about her time in prison, even though some parts are still hard to talk about, and how she uses drinking and self-medication as a means of coping. They break into the details of it, where the therapist makes her recreate it through a trauma narrative, reading and rereading it until she's managed to habituate herself to the events without experiencing anxiety. There are still certain things that poke at her, like showers and loud, clustered rooms, but her therapist tells her that this is a part of PTSD, and that it's a very common disorder that can be manageable if you cooperate and work.

So Rosa continues to work hard on her problems, doing her homework, and immersing herself in the exposures she needs to manage her anxiety.

And finally, after a few days, she begins weaning herself off alcohol and the medication, until finally she finds herself with no cravings at all.

"But you know," her therapist says one day, "the path to recovery is achieved through abstinence. You can't have alcohol or narcotics again, Rosa."

"I know," Rosa says, a half-hearted smirk curling her lip as she sighs. "Shaw's won't be as much fun with just seltzer, but this is what I need to do."

It's hard, but after nine weeks of trying and failing, of success and relapse, Rosa hits her groove and she finally gets a taste of real freedom.

* * * 

The squad all come to visit her to check-in and hang out every so often.

Terry usually brings the food, Charles brings the board games, Amy and Jake bring the non-alcoholic beverages, and Holt brings… well, himself. Hitchcock and Scully usually bring things for themselves, but Rosa doesn't take offence to them. She's always regarded them as her weird, old grandpas who have an occasional fluke for kicking ass and taking names (usually in food-related crimes, unfortunately or fortunately, depending on the context). They gather every week for their own game night, in which they have loud, sober fun, and provide Rosa the inspiration she needs to stay clean.

She won't lie by saying that she doesn't miss Gina, but she knows that she can't go back until she's kept her promise.

And while she's clean now, Rosa still has some work to do before she feels ready to win back the love of her life.

* * * 

"You should just text her, you know. Ask her to meet up."

Rosa looks over to see Amy sitting beside her on the love seat while the other people in the room engage in a very competitive match of Clue. Rosa shifts a little to the side to allow Amy more room to sit next to her. While this is no-drink Amy, she's still affectionate and touchy, but Rosa doesn't shrug it off. A part of her--a part she really hates to admit to--is touch-starved and grateful for the attention. Amy winds her arm around Rosa's own and leans her head on Rosa's shoulder. Rosa grumbles, pretending to be offended, when Amy just chuckles in return and pokes her ribs.

"It's been a month and a half since you started treatment," Amy says quietly, her tone becoming a bit more serious, but still lighthearted. "She's back at work, you know? She almost quit but Charles and I convinced her to come back. She's running her own business on the side."

Rosa frowns, turning to face Amy with an arched brow. "It's not the pet sports league is it?"

"Sadly yes," Amy chuckles, pulling a small smile out of Rosa. "But I think she knows that until that kicks off, the Nine-Nine has a pretty stable pay check and she can't afford to give that up, not with little Iggy." Rosa nods, another small smile curling her lips as she remembers her time spent with the girl.

"She loves you," Amy says again, causing Rosa's cheeks to blush as her head jolts up. "Oh don't be so surprised, we all figured it out pretty early. I mean, you and her are the only to people that manage to spend more time together than apart. And not to mention, despite her swagger, she has some pretty serious heart-eyes whenever you're around. Not that you're any better, mind you. It's kind of scary, but you guys really do fit together well."

"I don't think she wants to see me," Rosa says with a shrug as she looks away. "We didn't leave on good terms."

"Do you love her?" Amy asks softly, her fingers tracing the inside of Rosa's wrist.

"Of course," Rosa says back seriously, without an ounce of hesitation. "I'm in love with her… but I haven't been good to her."

"You know," Amy replies, looking over to Jake fondly. "You can always change that. You just have to have the courage to do it."

* * * 

Holt pulls her aside a few game-nights later, informing her that if she would like to come back to the Nine-Nine, she can.

Rosa takes a few moments to mull it over through the duration of the night, before accepting at the end.

"And please, for the love of God, Diaz--take our gifts home with you," Holt says, his tone just a tad close to humorous as he shakes her hand. Rosa smiles and laughs, feeling freer knowing that she can look back on some of the darkest periods of her time and find closure. Holt wraps her in a hug and tells her he's proud of her, and Rosa clings to him with watery eyes and trembling hands as she can do nothing but nod and thank him.

It's that night that Rosa realizes what it's like to be Jake or Amy. (At some point, she's sure Holt secretly thinks of all of them as his children).

But… there's no greater feeling than the hope and pride he instills in her, and because of it, Rosa feels inspired to do better.

So that night, before she's about to head to work, Rosa grabs some paper and a pen, and begins to write.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give the warmest Nine-Nine welcome to our very own Detective Rosa Diaz!"

Rosa chuckles at the streamers (all-black, as per Jake's tasteful choice) and various bits of confetti coming down from the ceiling. There's music playing in the background as everyone dances, welcoming her into the precinct in the most dramatic fashion that she could ever imagine. She knows, as she looks to her friends goofing around, that the old Rosa would have detested this attention and affection, but right now, as Rosa feels her heart swell a few sizes, she knows that the old Rosa is a thing of the past. While she still maintains her badass exterior, she's no longer cold and frigid.

"Thanks Boyle," Rosa says to Charles as the man gets down from the chair to wrap her in a hug. "This… this is amazing."

"I knew that you'd love it," Charles says as he hugs her back before pulling away to smile. "But seriously, we're all so happy to have you back."

Rosa smiles, nodding as she swallows down her emotions as the man steps back to let her pass. She speaks with Terry, Jake, and Amy for a bit, but they all know that she's not really interested in their conversation as much as she in something--or rather, someone--else. Rosa makes her way through the crowd to see Gina at her desk, phone in hand, not paying attention to the commotion in the bullpen. She's scrolling through a newsfeed, unaffected.

When she approaches, Rosa clears her throat nervously, drawing Gina's attention upwards.

"Hi," Rosa says awkwardly, "I'm… um, back."

"Congratulations," Gina says with a nod. She's not cold or unfriendly, but rather just classic Gina--blunt and forward. "Welcome back, Detective."

Just as Gina's about to look back down at her phone. Rosa holds out her hand. Gina looks at it with an arched brow, before crossing her arms.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Rosa asks softly. "In private?"

Gina looks up to her and then at the rest of the squad before she nods, standing and following Rosa to the break-room. They both get inside, with Rosa locking the door and shutting the blinds to insure that they have total privacy (and to keep Hitchcock from interrupting, that wretched man).

"So," Gina drawls as she takes a seat at one of the tables. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," Rosa says as she swallows down her emotion. "I used you when we were together and I didn't treat you fairly. I… I was impulsive and selfish and I didn't think about how my actions affected the people around me. I kept thinking that drinking away my problems would fix them, when all they did was cover them up and infect them further. I… I originally didn't want treatment for it because you told me that I should only do it if I wanted to, not for someone else. And initially, the only reason I ever considered it was so I could be better for you, but I realized that doing that would do nothing for me. It sounds selfish, I know, but… but I had a lot of stuff that I didn't know how to deal with, and I needed to learn to face it."

Gina stays quiet as Rosa shakily reaches into leather jacket for a letter, before she places it on Gina's desk.

"This isn't me asking you to take you back now that I'm sober," Rosa clarifies as Gina takes the letter into her hands and opens it. "It's just… well, it's everything I've been thinking since before I met you. I love you more than I've loved anyone in the entire world, but I also know that I did things that you may find have… coloured your opinion of me. Emotions and feelings are hard for me, but I'm learning to be more receptive to them, to listen to them. I'm actually taking this dumb active listening class that my therapist recommended because I just… I just want to be the best version of me, so that maybe one day, you might consider giving me a second chance. It doesn't have to be now, but… I know you said you'll wait and I know not to--"

"Rosa," Gina interrupts, causing Rosa to tense and freeze on the spot. Rosa swallows her nerves and nods. Gina sets down the letter, her fingers tracing the elegant curve of her handwriting before those eyes flicker up slowly to meet Rosa's own. They're watery and solemn, and Rosa's heart sinks.

"I'm sorry," Rosa chokes out, looking down as she fumbles with her hands. "I just thought, since I'm not eloquent at speaking--"

Before she can even finish what she's attempting to say, Gina's lips press against hers and Rosa feels her entire world spin to a halt. Rosa melts into the kiss instantly, not questioning how Gina had managed to come to her so quickly. She just winds her arms around Gina's middle and holds on tightly, allowing the tears streaming down her face to flow freely. Gina's hands come up to cup her face and she deepens the kiss with a pleading gasp.

"I love you," Rosa whispers shakily between kisses, "I love you so much, Gina."

"I love you too," Gina hums as she slowly pulls them apart so their foreheads are touching. "And I am so incredibly proud of you, babe."

The two of them stand there, smiling and holding each other close. In that moment, Rosa is grateful that she shut the door and locked the blinds, even if she knows that their coworkers are probably pressed up against the glass, eager to find out the verdict of their conversation. But Rosa couldn't care less about them right now, because Gina is in her arms, and Gina loves her, and Gina is kissing her again and the universe finally feels at peace.

"We should probably go back out there," Rosa chuckles between kisses as Gina's head falls to her shoulder. "Charles will have exploded by now."

"Let him," Gina murmurs as she smiles into Rosa's collar, "I think we earned a few moments to ourselves, don't you?"

Rosa just smiles and nods, before she leans down and reattaches their lips, melting into a kiss that leaves her breathless.

And yeah, Rosa thinks as Gina smiles against her lips uncontrollably, there's nothing better than this right here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways this is a pain fic and i'm ready to die!!!!


End file.
